


Your Side of the Bed

by Abstract_Chameleon



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Mild Smut, One Shot, angsty ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abstract_Chameleon/pseuds/Abstract_Chameleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Notorious criminal Neopolitan, a lonely mute girl who ran away from home, makes a visit to the bar in search of a business deal. Although it takes a gunfight and a long run through town, she strikes up a partnership and much more with the another wanted criminal, the irresistibly handsome Roman Torchwick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Side of the Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I cross-posted this from my FF.net account under the same name. I've been trying to get into Ao3 for a while because I know "rare pairs" get more attention here, but it took a while to get accepted. I have other fanfics over there, but I'm only gonna post RWBY ones here on Ao3. Well, I hope this is decent! Enjoy!

Everything was blurry and numb until my eyes focused.  Yellowish lights flickered off and on.  The barroom smelt of nervous sweat, body odor, and hard liquor, all of which were regrettably familiar scents to me.  Born in a rich household, I wasn’t forced into a life of crime.  I had chosen it, and never once had I regretted my decision.  I did, however, regret the company that often came as a result of my less-than-honest-lifestyle.  Brutish pimps who would pay a fortune to “own” me as one of their trophy girls, underhanded addicts who would die to strip me of my wealth just to squander it all on their next fix, and all-too-touchy ruffians who would never hesitate to take advantage of a voiceless girl like me.  After all, it’s hard to cry for help when you’re a lonely mute girl.

That’s right.  Mute.  I was born without the ability to speak, and was consequently spoiled by my parents as a child.  My parents were often too busy to deal with me, caught up in a life of riches and luxury, so they consistently hired a string of the best tutors and nannies in all of Atlas.  I impressed them all with my perfect manners and elegance, “earning” sweets and treats for my good-girl behavior, but it got boring fast.  I constantly begged my parents for new teachers and babysitters, hoping for something new that would interest me, but amusement never came.  No hobby or sport I tried would satisfy my curiosity of the outside world.  Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t take the life of pampered imprisonment anymore, so I packed my bags, took my favorite parasol, and ran.  I ran all night, all the way to Vale, and was never heard from again.

The heels of my stiletto boots clicked against the hardwood floor, and everything went silent.  I had become a bit of a notorious criminal in Vale over the past few years, but that didn’t stop anyone from trying to get their hands on me.  I was a bit of a wild fox, untamable, but oh-so desired.  It may sound glamorous, but it was actually quite frightening, constantly in danger of being raped, or worse — sold into prostitution.  I loved every bit of the thrill.  After all, survival is what I’m best at.

Hooking the end of my parasol onto my belt buckle, I sat down and asked for a shot.  Regardless of how often I drank, I loathed the taste of alcohol, but I knew that I would look suspicious if I didn’t order anything.  After all, I wasn’t there for a drink.  I was there to strike a business deal, or at least to get a new lead.  Despite all the wealth I had accumulated while living the life of a criminal, I was still unsatisfied.  I wanted more.  In that respect, I suppose I was a lot like my parents, never happy unless the world and all its riches were mine.  To my credit, at least I had more efficient methods of gaining the wealth I so strongly desired.

The bartender handed me the shot, and I signed a “thank you” at him.  He cocked an eyebrow at me, and I wondered at first if he didn’t know basic sign language, but then I realized that I was being too formal for the situation.  Due to my upbringing, I had a bad habit of acting too refined around the lower class crowds.  With my deadly parasol, expensive boots, and name-brand coat, fitting in was often a bit of a challenge.  Paranoia often seeped into the cracks of my mind, paranoia that trifles like my appearance or choice of weapon would be the end of me.  I needed more disguises and a better arsenal, but I needed more money first.

I took a deep breath and tuned my ears, trying to differentiate individual conversations amongst the cacophony of the barroom.  Most of the customers there were either wanted criminals also looking for deals to make or shady businessmen trying to catch a quick buck.  Aside from a few hookers in the back of the room, I was the only female.  Even after years of being the only well-known female criminal in all of Vale, the feeling was odd.  I listened closer, trying to discern who was lying from who was honest, knowing it would only be so long before some pig would offer his fortunes for a night of pleasure.  These men often teased me, joking about my height and childish face in an attempt to fluster me and get me to let their guard down. Oftentimes, they would ask for sex before even offering to buy me a drink.  They disgusted me to no end, only interested in an affair with a notorious young woman of crime for the bragging rights.  See, I had slept with several men after running away from home, but I found the experience to be less-than-satisfactory.  There was no emotional spark, no passionate flame, and at the end of the night, I was left feeling more lonely than the night before.

I had gotten so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice when one of these men plopped into the seat next to me.  His horrible stench was what alerted me to his presence, the smell of rotting Italian takeout and backstreet waste masked by the aroma of beer.  I nearly gagged.  I turned to face him, looking him in the eyes reluctantly.  His forehead was covered in oil, and, his beady brown eyes glinted, reflecting eerily along with his pointy teeth.

“Aren’t you little young to be in a place like this, baby doll?” he snickered, pulling a knife out of his boot to scrape the dirt out from under his nails.  Flecks of the dirt flew from the blade of his knife onto my lap.  I tried my best to hide my scowl.  Instead, I shifted my hand to my hip, ready to unhook my parasol if necessary.

“No, I’m here to make a deal with a someone who I’ll actually profit from.  You don’t seem very promising,” I signed, mouthing the words as I moved my hands.  He only seemed to catch half of what I said, but I could tell that he was already disappointed by my inability to speak.  Despite my fame as a criminal, plenty of truths about me were shrouded in mystery.  The majority of my fellow criminals did not know if I was truly mute or not, which often played to my advantage.

Exhaling in relief, I swallowed my shot and scanned the room.  Amidst the clusters of people, I noticed a tall, skinny man who stood out from the rest of the crowd.  His hair was bright red with longish bangs that draped over emerald eyes.  A cigar protruded from the corner of his mouth, and he twirled a silver cane as he pranced past curious glazes.  I had heard his name before, but I couldn’t remember it exactly.  What I did know was that he was a wanted criminal with a large bounty on his head, and he was notorious for making elaborate deals only to back out at the last minute and backstab everyone he owed any amount of cash, often literally.

I winced internally.  This man was potentially threatening my chances of making a good deal.  I was about to start brainstorming ways to get him out of the barroom when I noticed him approaching me with a sly grin on his face.

My heartbeat started to pick up, and I found myself avoiding eye contact with him at all costs.  He slid into the seat next to me and smiled wider, causing my face to heat up.  I tried to control my breathing, but it was of no use.  I was panicking, which was very unlike me, and I could not figure out why.

“My, good evening, sweetcheeks,” he purred.  “You look lonely.  Care for a drink?”

I signed “no,” and looked defiantly into his eyes.  I felt my stomach drop as soon as our eyes met.  Up close, he was devilishly handsome, and he was just as terrifying.  A puff of smoke from his cigar wafted into my face, causing me to cough.

“So, the rumors are true,” he hummed.  “You really are mute, or you're just a good actress.”  His eyes widened, and for a second, a look of panic flashed across his face.  “How rude of me.  I haven't even introduced myself.”  He dropped his cigar to the ground and squashed it under his boot, waving the tobacco smoke from the air with his hand.  “They call me Roman Torchwick.  And you, darling?”

“Neopolitan,” I signed with my hands.  He cocked his head, and I groaned in frustration.

 “I'm afraid I don't know the basic alphabet in sign language.  I only know certain phrases.  But tell you what, ice cream, if you'll help me out here, I'll learn the alphabet just for you—”

He couldn't even finish his wink before I had him pinned to the ground, the concealed blade of my parasol licking his throat.  I’d had it.  I wasn't about to be offered cash for sex by another man that night, especially by a famous criminal like Torchwick.  If these men thought I was so childish and sweet, I'd show them the truth.

The noise in the barroom dropped from a hundred to zero.  Everyone put their drinks down and stared.  I smirked and pressed the blade deeper into his neck.  He coughed and moaned.

“Listen, sweetheart, I didn't mean anything, I swear,” he choked out.  “If you'll just let me go, I—”

In a split second, a gunshot fired, and I rolled underneath a barstool, clutching my parasol close to my chest, eyes shut tightly.  I heard more gunshots and opened my eyes to see a pair of legs in front of me, guarding me from whomever had fired first.

“Neopolitan!  Get out of here!  Run away as fast as you can!  I'll catch up with you!”

I scrawled out from underneath the barstools and skidded across the floor.  Using the end of my parasol as a hook, I swung out the window and onto the roof of the building, lying as flat as possible.  The whole time, Torchwick covered me, allowing me to escape.  The gunshots continued for a while and died down eventually.  I stayed still and quiet, hoping that Torchwick was safe and chastising myself for hoping so.  It was only so long before he was beside me again.

I sat up and brushed a strand of bubblegum pink hair out of my face.  “How did you know my name?” I mouthed at him, hoping he caught my words this time.

“Sweetheart, anyone in that bar who didn’t know your name was either stupid, or stupid,” he chuckled, “and now, they’re mostly dead, so it doesn’t matter anyway.  I’m not as bad at sign language as I let on, either.  I really just wanted the chance to call you my little ice cream cone.”  He winked again,  He was clearly bad at flirting, but something about his charisma and the warmth in his eyes made my heart skip a beat.  I bit my lip in frustration.

“Why did you save me?” I tried to hide my blush as I formed the words with my lips.  Criminals often looked out for each other, but never without a reason.  A suspicion rose in the back of my mind, and my heart sunk a bit.

“Why does a gentleman need a reason to save a beautiful young lady like you?” He giggled a bit, smiling with mirth, but then his face hardened.  “Actually, there is a reason I need you in particular alive tonight.”  He leaned closer to my face, lowering his voice to that of a whisper.  I felt my cheeks heating up against my will.  “I’m supposed to be a dead man tonight.  I never paid an old buddy of mine back, and he hired one of his cronies to end me at three A.M. sharp.  If I run, I’ll look like a coward, so that’s out of the question.  I’ve gotta take this guy down, but I need back up just in case.  That’s where you come in, darling.”

“But why me? Don’t you have any friends to help you?” I signed frantically, mouthing along with the words.

He chuckled again.  “A man with a bounty as big as mine over his head has very few friends.  Plus, I’m a bit of a gambling man, sweetie.  I couldn’t resist a chance to hire the legendary criminal Neopolitan.”

I grunted.  He was exaggerating to flatter me; that was obvious, but I was ashamed to realize that it was working.  His kind smile and warm words had broken me down, for better or for worse.  I examined his face, looking for a sign of lies or bad intentions.  I could not tell if he was being completely honest, but after watching him for long enough, I could sense that he wasn’t going to be any kind of threat to me.  Exhaling, I nodded.  “I’ll do it.”  My hands trembled slightly as they formed the three simple words.

He grinned.  It was a cheesy grin, like a child who had just succeeded to convince his mother to buy him candy.  The cold air whipped past us, reminding me that we were on top of the roof.  I felt cold all of a sudden.  He grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes.  We jumped.

As soon as our feet hit the ground, we were running.  The bitter wind hit our backs, seeming to push us forward.  I was thankful for the frigid air because it gave an excuse for my red cheeks.  I looked to him every so often, noticing that he seemed genuinely carefree and blithe.  His face was not the face of a man who was about to face death, and at the time, I found that remarkable about him.  His previously perfectly straightened hair was now strewn messily about his face, revealing both of his mirthful green eyes.  Despite this, he still looked perfect, the definition of a handsome young criminal on the run.  I looked forward and continued to run, wondering for the first time in my life if I was really fit to be such a well-known criminal.

We reached his apartment building about forty minutes later.  I was completely out of breath, but he seemed to be composed enough.  After gasping twice and coughing into the sleeve of his jacket, he straightened himself up and looked as if nothing had happened.  I was embarrassed and slightly envious, to say the least.  He patted my shoulder a bit and crooned something inaudible.  I huffed in irritation and looked up.

“The landlord of this apartment complex and I have a bit of a deal, but we’d certainly raise suspicions if we just went in through the front door at this time of the night,” he explained.  “Follow me.”  He led me behind the building to the back right wing of the apartment and pointed at a window on the second floor.  “That’s my room.  The only question is how to get up there unnoticed.”

My eyes widened.  “I have an idea,” I signed, tossing my umbrella in the air so it hooked onto the windowsill.  “Lift me onto your shoulders.”

He looked around thoroughly to make sure no one was watching and nodded.  A minute later, I was standing on his shoulders and hoping he didn’t find me too heavy.  Using the umbrella to prop the window open, I gripped the end of the windowsill and hurled myself through the window.  Once I made it inside, I held my umbrella out to him with an outstretched arm and pulled him in.  He smiled and dusted off his clothes.

“What a resourceful girl you are,” he mused, stroking his chin.  “Well, this is my place.  It’s shabby, but it’s better than a backstreet alley.”  The room was small but nicely decorated.  All the furniture matched, and besides the packs of cigars strewn about the room, everything seemed to be in its place.  Dim lights and open curtains revealing moonlight made the room seem almost romantic.  I brushed the notion aside and hooked my parasol onto my belt.

“So, what should I do now?” I signed, biting the side of my cheek.

“Nothing much.  For now, we just wait.  I can order a pizza and a bottle of wine if you’d like, darling,” he offered all-too-enthusiastically.

“No wine,” I gestured emphatically.

He frowned but nodded in understanding and pulled his scroll out of his pocket to make the call.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t place my finger on what was wrong.  I removed my gloves and shoved them into the pockets of my coat and walked around.  Underneath the strong smell of tobacco, the room smelt of fresh cologne and pumpkin pie.  It was an odd but refreshing scent.  I sat down and tried to calm my nerves.

“The pizza will be here in a few.  While we’re waiting, we never settled on a cost.  If we both make it out of this alive, what’s your price, sweetheart?” He sat next to me and put an arm around my shoulder.  My heart sped up.  I had two choices: foolishly give into the man’s chivalrous behaviour and demand nothing, or look out for my own best interest and demand a fortune.

“I don’t need anything.  You saved my life back at the bar, so I might as well pay you back, especially since you’re buying dinner,” I signed and mouthed, partially regretting the words.

“Nonsense.  I’m going to pay you something.”  I shook my head vehemently against my own will.  “I guess I’ll have to sneak it to you if you’re going to be so stubborn.”  He gave me a coy wink.  I sighed in false defeat.  We sat in silence for several minutes until there was a knock at the door.  He stood up to get the door, and I gripped his arm instinctively, pulling him closer to me.

“Wha—What’s the matter, darling?”

“Are you stupid?!? That could be the assassin, and you’re just gonna open the door for him?!?” I signed angrily.

He laughed, and his cheeks dusted over with pink.  “Oh, right.  Don’t worry, the assassin isn’t scheduled to be here until three A.M, remember? It’s not even one yet.”

I shook my head, refusing to let him go.

“Sweetie, I’ll be safe.  Now let me go before the delivery man thinks he’s got the wrong room.”  I reluctantly let go and set my hand on my parasol, ready for a death battle if that was necessary.

It turned out that Torchwick had been right.  It was only the pizza delivery man.  The redheaded criminal took the pizza box, handed him six hundred Lien, and shut the door.  I sighed in relief and took my hand off of my belt.  He set the pizza on the small coffee table in the center of the room and filled two wine glasses with tap water for each of us, gesturing for me to sit down on the sofa.  I nodded and complied, smirking at his “inappropriate” use of wine glasses.

The pizza was cheap, drowning in grease and excess amounts of tomato sauce, but I didn’t care.  After almost an hour of being on the run, I was starving.  He had barely finished opening the box before I was already biting into my first slice, which I instantly regretted.  Oh, how it was hot, and there was no way in the world I could disguise my pain.  I dropped my pizza on the coffee table and downed the entire glass of water, not caring that dribbles of water had slid down my face and neck.  Torchwick began to laugh uncontrollably, clutching his sides and gasping every few seconds.  My face heated up, and I slammed the wine glass on the table, glaring at him in anger, which only made him laugh more.  I stared at my boots in embarrassment, waiting for the remainder of my pizza slice to cool.

“I think it’s cooled down now,” he teased several minutes later, biting into a slice of his own pizza.  I huffed and picked up my slice, blowing on it and tentatively nibbling on the end.  He had been right.

“Asshole,” I thought to myself, smiling childishly in-between bites.

Once we were finished with the pizza, the room returned to a state of awkward silence.  I cleared my throat several times, and he lit a cigar.

“Tell me about yourself, Neo,” he requested.  “May I call you Neo?”

I nodded, finding it ironic that he had called me nearly every pet name I could think of, yet he had to ask permission to address me with a simple nickname.  “There’s not much to tell,” I signed, frowning a little.

He smiled.  “That’s okay.  Just tell me whatever you feel comfortable telling, and I’ll do my best to understand.”

I nodded again and allowed myself to smile a little.  My hands began to sign.  “Well, I was born in Atlas, and I was born mute.  I was an only child.  My parents felt bad for me, so they bought me whatever I wanted, but they were never around because they were always working.  They hired a bunch of tutors and babysitters who taught me to be all prim and proper, but it was all so boring.  I got tired of being rich and spoiled, and I wanted a more adventurous life, so I ran away.”

He licked his lips in understanding.  “Hmm, my story is pretty similar to yours, Neo.”  I hated the way my heartbeat skipped when he said my name.  “My parents got divorced when I was five.  They spoiled me too, but they were always fighting, and they pissed me off.  School was no fun, and I didn’t have any real friends, so I ran away when I was sixteen.  It seems we have more in common than I thought.”

My eyebrows drew together in concern that I could not hide.  From what he had said, it had sounded like he was just as lonely as I.  I might have been spoiled as a child, but life had been hard on me, and I knew that things had not been easy for him either.  “I’m sorry,” I mouthed.

“Aw, don’t frown, sweetheart.  It’s not like any of that shit matters now.  I’m living the high life.  I’ve got a nice place, a nice sum of Lien, and a cute girl sitting in my room.  What more could a man want?”

I pursed my lips sassily, rolling my eyes.

“Aw, come on.  My company can’t be all that bad, hm?” he cooed, snickering, and set his cigar on the table.  I giggled a bit and smirked, avoiding eye contact for fear that my cheeks would betray me.  “Hey, it looks like you’ve got a little something on your face, darling.  Come a little closer and lemme see.”

My eyes widened in embarrassment.  He leaned in closer and grazed the side of my burning red cheek with his finger.  A split second later, our lips were touching, and his arm had snaked its way around my waist.  I gasped a little, and he laughed into the kiss, if one would call it that.  He pulled away quickly.

“That was just stupid of me,” he admitted several moments later.

I shook my head and grabbed his hand.  “I liked it,” I mouthed pathetically.

“Not the kiss, silly girl,” he scoffed.  “I mean the pickup line.”

“Oh.”  I grinned.  “I can do better without a pickup line.”  This time, I grabbed his grey cravat and pulled his face to mine, smashing my lips against his.  He moaned provocatively, leaving me unable to restrain myself.  I pushed him down onto the sofa and hovered over him.  We parted for air, and he smiled seductively, grabbing my hips and pulling them closer to his.  Through his pants, I could feel that he was hard.

I kissed him a third time, giving him entrance into my mouth.  Our tongues fought and our hips grinded, and with each second, the spaces between us grew smaller and smaller.  He was aggressive and passionate, and I was not about to be outdone.  As we pulled away again, he undid the front of my coat, fondling my breasts through through the thin lining of my shirt.  I stood up to tease him, slowly removing each article of clothing until nothing was left but my bra and panties.  As I undressed, I couldn’t help but notice that he stared directly into my eyes, never unwavering even as I sat myself back on his lap.

He sat up and removed his jacket, allowing me to unbutton his shirt.  I rocked my hips against his as my fingers moved.  Licking his lips, he kissed me again and slipped a hand under my bra.  I felt him get harder, and I moaned a little louder.  Despite the taste of tobacco, everything about him was so sweet.

Several hours later, I woke up next to him.  We were both naked, but he had covered me in his jacket to keep me warm.  He was fast asleep, and a silly smile painted his face.  I exhaled slowly, feeling at peace for a brief moment before I remembered my initial reason for being there.

I left his coat on top of him and dressed myself as quickly as possible.  Once I was fully clothed, I shook him awake, my face stricken with panic.

“Nn…  What time…  Was that…” he mumbled, running a hand through his ginger hair.  “Yup, I’m still naked, alright.  That was real.”  He grinned contently.

“Torchwick!” I mouthed angrily.  “The assassin, did he come?!? What happened?!? Are we—”

He grabbed my flailing hands and chucked.  “Neo, sweetie, that was all just a bluff.”  My jaw dropped slightly.  “I’m a horrible man, I know.  I’m sorry.  I don’t often say those words, so I hope you forgive me.  I’d heard all the rumors about you, but seeing you in person was a completely different story.  When I spotted you at the bar last night, I had to do something, so I came up with a shitty plan to take you home with me.  I’m sorry.  You can just add me to your list of assholes who’ve taken advantage of you, if you have one, I guess.”  He spoke with rushed words and refused to look me in the eye.  Just as it had the night before, my heart softened.

“It’s okay.  I forgive you, Torchwick,” I mouthed, clutching his hands tighter before he could let them fall.

He smiled a little.  “Call me Roman from now on, okay, sweetie?”

I nodded.  “Are you sure you’ll be safe… Roman?” I worded.

His smile widened.  “Of course.  Don’t worry about me.”

I smiled sadly and let go of his hands.  “I guess I should be going, then.  Thanks for everything last night, Roman.  I won’t forget it any time soon.”  I stepped away, and as I did, my heart felt like it it was about to stop beating.  His face paled.

“Wait, don’t go.  I… I’ve been looking for a partner, I guess.  I know I haven’t proven to be very honest, but I promise it would be worth it.  Everything I own would be yours, too.  You can have it all.  Just…  Don’t go.”  His voice cracked a little.

I tried to stop the tears from welling in my eyes, but I was unable to hold them back.  “I won’t.  I’ll stay,” I promised with my hands.  “We’ll be partners from now on.”

“Partners in crime,” he agreed, smiling proudly.  I nestled next to him on the sofa and rested my head on his shoulder.

“Aw, don’t cry, ice cream cone,” he razzed and poked my cheek.  “Can I tell you a secret?”

I hummed in place of a “yes,” laughing to myself.

“I was a virgin until last night,” he admitted and chuckled nervously.  “I mean, I’d certainly seen naked women before, but that was my first time actually… you know.  How about you?”

I snickered and shook my head.  “I’ve slept with a couple guys before.  None of them were as interesting as you, though.”  I frowned.  “They all left before morning came, anyway.”

He kissed my forehead.  “Well, it’s morning already, and I’m still here, darling.  This side of my bed will always be open for you.”

“This isn’t even a bed, you dolt.” I signed.  We laughed together and fell back to sleep.

* * *

“How long is this going to last, Roman?” I mouthed to my lover one night.  Our adventures as criminals had taken all across Vale and back.  At the time, we were living in a small condo we had rented for the time being.  Despite the occasional arguments that every couple gets into, we had stayed together for several years, never questioning our partnership.  I was thankful for every moment of it, even if I didn’t always let it show.  I could only hope that he felt the same.

“Is what, sweetheart?” he asked sleepily, playing with my hair.

“Us.”

His eyes opened a little wider.  “That’s a silly question,” he retorted.  “The real question is, how long do you want it to last?”

I didn’t answer.  I simply hugged him closer to me and buried my face in his chest.

“Me too, Neo.  Me too.”

I had never felt happier in my entire life than in that one moment.  If only that happiness could have lasted my whole lifetime.

* * *

When I woke up, I was cold.  You were the first thing on my mind, as you have always been every morning since we became partners.  My mind had become possessed by your presence.  Memories of our time together flickered through my thoughts.  I remembered the way we’d met, when you saved me in the barroom and made love to me that night.  I remembered each crime we’d gotten ourselves tangled in, everything we’d stolen and everyone we’d murdered together, all the times I’d bailed you out of prison, and all the times we’d been on the run together.  I remembered all the fights we’d had, all the angry text messages we’d sent each other, all the times we’d cursed at each other in frustration, and all the times we’d come running back to each other’s arms.  I remembered when we met Cinder Fall and how we’d made a deal with her for the sake of our own survival.  I remembered saving your silly ass from the students at Beacon and how I teased you about it afterwards.  I remembered you getting captured by the Atlesian army and how I came to get you weeks later so we could finish up the fight against Beacon.

The fight against Beacon…

That’s right.  I’d lost you that night.  Thanks to my own folly, I’d found myself sailing away in the wind, miles away while you fought Little Red.  When I finally landed, you wouldn’t respond to my texts, and when the ship crashed, I found you, lying there, dead.

You were dead.

Roman Torchwick, you had become my everything, the reason for my existence, the one thing I could not afford to lose.

Gone.

I closed my eyes to hold the tears back, but they spilled out anyway.  I stretched my arms out, but there was nothing to cling to.  I mouthed your name, but no response came.

You just weren’t there anymore, and your side of the bed was empty.


End file.
